I've Seen It All
by pettybureaucrat
Summary: Ginny turns to her mirror for advice on how to finally get her man.  Smutty Harr/Ginny fluff.  M for a reason, though not as raunchy as some of my stories.


All recognizable characters and locations belong to JK Rowling.

"You ARE going to put a brassiere on, aren't you, Ginevra?"

Ginny's brown eyes flash with annoyance. More for my using her real name than my comment, I'm sure.

"I sometimes wonder why I keep you around," she pouts.

"I'm your conscience, advisor, and friend," I say immodestly.

"You're my mirror. I'm sure I can find one that's less cheeky."

"Would you be where you are now if I hadn't been cheeky?"

Ginny sighs and pulls the top of her dress up a bit, concealing a little more of her enticing, though somewhat modest cleavage. I see her look at her nipples which are poking through the thin fabric.

"I have to do something to get Harry to notice me," she grumbles.

"I'm sure he notices you, dear, but I have to admit he does seem a tad clueless at times. Aftereffects of the war, still?"

"I don't think so," she sighs. "Maybe he really isn't interested in me. Why do I still love him? Want him so badly?"

"I'm just a mirror, love. Your mirror. And as such, I can only advise you. And my advice is to take the bull by the horns, apparate him back here with you after dinner and have your evil way with him!"

Ginny blushes. She blushes so easily.

"I couldn't!" she demurs.

"Dear, you've loved him since you were ten years old. You whined and cried to me enough about him back then. From my observations of him when he's been in your room with you, I think he's just too, well, too damn noble to ask you to make love to him."

"He is noble, that's true," Ginny sighs. "I love that in him, but, damn it, I want him in me!"

"Will he be that different from all the other men," I ask her, knowing that I'll tick her off.

"There haven't been any other men, you...you..." she sputters. "You know that damn well! You're actually to blame for that, you know."

"My mission is to give advice, love. I can't always swear that it will be good advice, or that you'll feel any better for following it. But, really, Ginevra, how would you have felt about yourself if you'd actually given your virginity to Michael when you were only fourteen? Honestly?"

"You were right about that," she admits.

HPGWHPGW

She had asked me over Easter holidays that year if she should let Michael make love to her when she returned to school. I told her what I thought about that idea.

"My first mistress gave hers up at fourteen, that's true," I had told her.

"Then why shouldn't I?"

"Because that was in 1617, my dear, and things were very, very different back then. My mistress wasn't in school. Most witches didn't go to Hogwarts in those days. She was expected to marry and have a family. Lots of strapping sons and beautiful daughters. Her marriage had already been arranged. True, her first lover wasn't her intended, but, well, her husband never realized it."

"What are you saying?" Ginny asked me.

"Do you see yourself with Michael in the long term? This is the 1990s. You're smart and talented. You have your own life to live before settling down. I don't necessarily mean stay a virgin until you marry, but seriously, child, all you would be doing is giving Michael something to brag about to his mates."

HPGWHPGW

Ginny looks at me and sighs.

"Well, you were right. Michael turned out to be rather immature. I would have felt really used, especially when he wasted no time before taking up with Cho after I dumped him. But, what about Dean?"

"Really, Ginevra! You were only just fifteen. Dean sounded like a nice boy when you told me about him at Christmas that year. Still, did you ever see you and Dean as a permanent couple?"

"Maybe, just a little," she sighs. "He was nice and polite. Actually, he was too polite. He kept acting like I couldn't do anything for myself. It's just that when Ron and Harry caught us snogging, the look on Harry's face..."

"Why did you ever give up on him?" I ask.

"He just had so much else on his mind, so much pressure, so much that was expected of him," she says, sniffling a little. "He was my hero, but I wasn't anything other than Ron's little sister. Hermione finally told me during my third year that I should just get over him and get on with my life."

"Well," I chortle lightly, "even the brightest witch of her age can be wrong sometimes. I'm sure she had only your best interests at heart, but you should have listened to your heart. Still, you were only thirteen. Very few thirteen-year-olds can be that certain about love. My fifth mistress thought she was, but that all ended very badly."

"How many mistresses have you had?" Ginny asks. "How old are you, anyway?"

"I was created nearly four hundred years ago," I tell her. "You're my twelfth mistress. I belonged to one family for ages, passed down from mother to daughter, or, once, to a sister. But my previous mistress died in a fire along with her whole family. I was salvaged and spent years in curiosity shop until your mother found me and bought me for you for your tenth birthday."

"I was so happy," Ginny smiles. "It made me feel so grown up, having my own mirror."

"Yes, and I remember you coming back from Kings Cross and dancing around your room singing about Harry Potter."

"I was only ten!" she gripes.

"Now you're eighteen and you're still singing and dancing about Harry Potter. Alone!"

"I don't want to be alone," she sobs softly. "But, I just don't know what else to do, to try. Maybe he really doesn't like me that way. Maybe I'm still just Ron's little sister."

"Yes, maybe so," I say. "Why didn't you curse him when he broke in on you with Harry here a couple years ago. Really! A seventeen-year-old wizard barging into his fifteen-year-old sister's room unannounced, without so much as a by-your-leave! You could have been dressing! Or masturbating! I would have turned him into a toad!"

"I was tempted," Ginny admits. "But, Harry had broken up with me and I really shouldn't have been doing that to him."

"Yes, that's true," I allow. "Still, you never broke up with him, did you?"

"Never," she cries, her mascara running. "He admits now that it really tore him up inside to do that. He even admits that it probably wouldn't have been necessary. He said Voldemort never really assaulted his mind that way during the hunt."

"Don't cry, that's all over and done with now," I tut at her. "Now, fix your face and go get your man! You're right, forget the brassiere. Are you going commando?"

That really makes her blush.

"I...I most certainly am not!"

"It saves a lot of time when your man is hesitant or having second thoughts," I advise her. "My ninth mistress got her future husband to commit that way."

"I really don't want to hear any more about your...your sordid past, thank you," she huffs, waving her wand and restoring her face. She wears very little makeup in any case. She's so beautiful that she doesn't need to. Just a little to highlight her deep chocolate brown eyes and a demur lipstick that makes her pouty lips even more desirable.

"You look just smashing, my dear," I assure her. "What are you wearing down there?"

"Er," she mumbles, blushing beautifully. "Those...those little red lace knickers."

"You mean that handkerchief that you bought under the misguided assumption that it was actually underwear?"

She just nods.

"Well, you have the most wonderful time, love," I tell her. "Then come back here with him and have an even more wonderful time!"

I see her eyes glimmer a little and her jaw tighten with determination. I had to push and cajole a couple of my mistresses into making the first move and I recognize the signs that Ginevra has decided that she is getting her man whether he wants it or not.

It is about five hours later and Ginevra apparates into the room with a soft pop, Harry Potter by her side.

"Are you absolutely certain, Gin?" he says, although I can see his eyes are dark with desire.

"You know I am, Harry!" she says. "Please, why don't you want to make love to me?"

"I never said I don't want to make love to you, but, honestly, is this the right time and place? In your own house, in your own bed, with your parents sleeping downstairs?"

I snort silently. She needs to vanish their clothes quickly or he'll talk her out of it.

"Then take me to Grimmauld Place," she tells him. "But, for Merlin's sake, Harry, take me!"

That is all it takes. I smile as he seizes her, his lips crashing onto hers, his tongue forcing its way between her lips. They fall onto the bed, their hands wandering over each other's body.

It's not long before they're both naked, Harry smiling nervously as he gently pulls her tiny red knickers down her muscular legs, exposing the triangle of fiery red between her thighs.

"Harry, please," she moans.

"Just a little longer," he teases as his mouth descends onto her center.

They have obviously gotten this far before. Ginevra tangles her fingers in his messy black hair as his tongue first makes leisurely circles around her bud, then plunges it inside her, forcing a gasp of pleasure from her as he probes and laves the soft, wet walls.

My young mistress arches her back and cries out. "Yes! Yes! Oh, Merlin, YES! Harry!"

"Now, now, please, now," she whispers, pulling his head up from between her legs and urging him up onto her.

He settles his hips on top of hers, her legs spread open invitingly, her lips wet and glistening with her desire. She takes his cock in her hand, swirling her thumb over the head and spreading the leaking fluid around it, then softly pulls him forward, positioning him just inside her.

She lifts her legs and rests them on his hips, opening herself up wider for him.

"I'm ready, Harry," she says, her voice just slightly tremulous. "Please, I love you! You know I do! You love me, don't you?"

"More than anything," he says with utter certainty.

"Then this is simply confirming it," she tells him. "Please, Harry, I want you, I want to love you, love you every possible way. Especially this way," she concludes, pushing herself up along his shaft just a little further.

A saint couldn't have resisted such an invitation. I watch as Harry slowly pushes himself all the way inside her.

"Ahh, oww," she squeaks as he enters her completely, his black pubic hair meshing with her red curls. "Just...just a minute, please. Oh, you're big."

"I'll stop if it hurts too much."

"Don't you dare!" she cries, her hands falling onto his buttocks and pulling him into her tighter. "I knew it would hurt a little, but it's fine now. Please, Harry, do it!"

He starts moving in and out slowly, then, soon speeds up as Ginevra's hips match his rhythm, meeting his thrusts with her own.

"Yes, oh, Merlin and Morgana! Yes!" she gasps.

"Ginny, Ginny!" I hear him cry, his thrusts rapid now as he obviously approaches his peak.

"Just...just a little longer, please, please, please," she begs. "I'm almost...almost..."

If I had lips I would have smiled now as Ginevra comes, her orgasm shaking her slender body with its force as she wraps her legs around Harry's, her muscles squeezing and rippling along his length. She cries and wimpers with pleasure as she says, "Now, Harry! NOW!"

Harry follows her within seconds, spilling into her as he cries. The sharp echoes of their flesh slapping together fill the bedroom as he rides out his own orgasm.

"Ginny, Ginny! Oh, God, yes! Ginny!"

They hug and kiss, then continue to thrust and push at each other for a couple more minutes before Harry finally stops moving, barely able to support himself above her.

"I love you," he says to her.

"I love you, too," she answers back. "It was the most amazing thing I've ever done. Please, stay with me. Stay next to me all night."

He tries to refuse but her glistening eyes convince him otherwise. They soon settle down and fall quickly asleep in each other's arms.

I sigh quietly, although I'm sure they can't hear me. It was probably the most passionate, most beautiful, most perfect act of lovemaking I had witnessed in four hundred years. Truthfully, I wonder how they could possibly have waited so long.

Ginevra awakes first, sitting up and stretching, her face lit by a beautiful, totally satisfied smile. She reaches between her legs and softly strokes herself, wincing just a little. She sighs, then rises from the bed and walks over to her vanity, just the very slightest hitch in her gait. She sits down and holds her chin in her hands, staring at her reflection, a very, very satisfied grin on her still-swollen lips.

"Enjoyed that did you?" I ask.

"You watched us?" she almost screams.

"I'm a mirror, love, remember? No eyelids."

She snorts and huffs and blushes.

"It was beautiful, dear," I tell her. "I've watched four hundred years' worth of lovemaking and I can't think of one that was more perfect, more passionate than yours."

"Really?" Her eyes begin leaking tears.

"Really," I assure her. "You two are made for each other, you're soul mates. It's so obvious."

"I want to do this with him forever," she sighs.

"I'm sure he feels the same way, now."

She reaches down and touches her no longer virgin vagina.

"Ow," she winces. "It's kind of sore. I guess I should take a bath."

"Mix your pink blush with your skin softening lotion."

She looks at me funny but does what I ask.

"Now put it on your lips...not those lips, you ninny," I snort as her hand heads towards her mouth.

She spreads the mixture on her labia and I see the pained look leave her face.

"Thank you," she smiles. "It's much better. I still feel kind of sore, well, stretched I guess."

"Not surprising," I say. "You're rather petite, Harry is...not."

"I'll say," she grins cheekily.

"Now, cast an anti-apparition spell on him," I direct her.

"What for?"

"So he doesn't leave before breakfast."

"You expect me to take him downstairs with me and...and have breakfast with my parents!" She does scream this time.

"You're lovers, now," I tell her firmly. "Everyone should know. You have nothing to be ashamed of and no reason to hide your relationship."

"But...but, they'll make him leave," she argues. "They'll never let me see him again!"

"You're eighteen now, Ginevra," I remind her. "You're done with school, have a job, and a man who loves you. You can do whatever you want, including moving in with Harry. But, you know your parents love him. They'll be delighted."

"I don't think so," she says doubtfully.

"Oh, they'll fuss a little, but really, Ginevra, they've probably wondered what's taken you two so long."

"Ginny? Gin?" Harry mumbles sleepily from the bed. "Who are you talking to? Not...not your Mum, I hope!" he cries, a look of panic crossing his face.

"Just my mirror," she says. "Come on, Harry, get up and get dressed. It's almost eleven. I'm hungry."

"You...you want us to have breakfast with your folks? After what we've done?"

"We've done nothing wrong," she says, walking over and kissing him. "Are you ashamed of what we did?"

He looks very nervous for a moment, then smiles and pulls her back into bed with him.

"No, not at all," he declares. "But, do we want them to find out about us like this?"

"Why not?" She asks. "They'll find out soon enough once I move in with you at Grimmauld Place."

"Oh, and what makes you think I want you to move in with me, huh, Miss Weasley?" He jokes with a sly grin.

"You'd better, Mr. Potter," she pouts. "If I find anyone else moving in with you, your sex life will end, then and there."

They kiss some more and Harry reaches between her legs, softly stroking the fiery curls.

"Ahh," she hisses a little. "I'm still a little tender down there, Harry," she sighs, softly removing his hand. "I'll be fine by tomorrow. What time do you get home from training?"

"Ginny," he says, looking nervous again. "Ah, I want to have you with me, but tomorrow? Really?"

"I want to do this with you every day, Harry," she promises him. "Two and three times! As often as we can. Didn't you like it?" she mopes with a beautiful moue.

"You know I did, you...you scarlet hussy," he laughs, kissing her warmly. "Ahh, I need to, umm, relieve myself. Then I'll get dressed and we'll go face the music."

"I'm keeping your clothes in here," she smirks. "No apparating away from the loo, unless you want to show up naked in front of Kreacher."

"Minx," he snickers, kissing her, then opening her bedroom door and carefully checking the stairway, he dashes into the bathroom.

Ginevra comes and sits in from of me, then leans forward and plants a kiss in the middle of me.

"Thank you," she says, more tears on her cheeks.

"I am here to serve," I say. "When you move in with Harry do remember to take me with you so you can pass me on to your daughter."

"Daughter?" she says, paling somewhat.

You remembered the charm, right?"

"What charm?"

If I had eyes I would have rolled them at her.

"The Contraception Charm?"

At least she has the decency to blush.

"Oh, shite..."

I laugh, she frowns.

"It's not funny!"

"Check your calendar, dear," I urge her. She looks, then, heaves a sigh of relief.

"Oh, thank Morgana. Wrong time of month," she says gratefully.

Harry comes back, she runs to the loo as he dresses. She returns and after some more kissing and pawing, Harry lets her dress as well. Taking deep breaths and looking into each other's eyes, they head out the door and down the stairs.

Five minutes later, a red-faced, furious Ginevra is standing in front of me.

"You...you..." she sputters. "You could have reminded me it was Sunday! The whole bloody family is here for brunch!"

"I'm your mirror, not your appointments calendar," I remind her.

"You...you..."

"Is Harry still alive?" I ask her.

"Barely," she admits, then finally smiles. "Ron and Charlie were NOT happy."

"Oh, don't worry about those prats," I tell her. "What did your parents say?"

"Well, I could tell they were, well, somewhat disappointed, but they told everyone to leave us alone."

"Talk with them privately after everyone else has gone," I advise her. "Where is Harry?"

"Oh, my git brothers are having a 'talk' with him," she grins. "You know, treat me right, don't cheat on me, sex only for the purpose of procreation. The usual."

"And what about their wives and sweethearts?"

"I've promised them the 'gooey' details later," she says with a full blush.

"When you do move in with Harry," I say in my most serious tone, "do put me in the bedroom. I very much enjoyed last night."

"What are you? A voyeur? I don't know if I want such a cheeky mirror watching my intimate activities," she says, doing her best not to smile.

"I've watched four hundred years of lovemaking, my child," I remind her. "Anytime you think Harry is getting bored with the sex, just ask me. Ask me anything. I've seen it all!"

She blushes again, turns towards the door, then looks back at me.

"I might just do that. Bored or not!"


End file.
